


Come Along

by foreignobjecticus



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: B7 Kink Meme Prompt Fill, Masturbation, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23310985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreignobjecticus/pseuds/foreignobjecticus
Summary: Vila manages to convince one of the crew to come back to his cabin for a bit of debauchery (or maybetheyconvinced Vila...)
Kudos: 2





	Come Along

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy my self-quarantine-spurred, totally un-betaed self indulgence fic. The writing style is shoehorned to make it ambiguous as to who the mysterious other person is... so the only real clue is that it's probably not Orac, Zen, or Slave (sorry shippers). I've tagged this as B7 Kink Meme Prompt Fill because I've got a list of unfilled prompts from LJ _somewhere_ but idk which one this was in response to now. Anyway hopefully my first actual contribution to the fandom achieves its purpose. _Enjoy_.

Vila perched himself on the edge of his bed and his hands went for his fly, unbuttoning himself and reaching into his pants unselfconsciously to squeeze before drawing himself out. His cock was already half-hard from the mere promise of a quick, filthy hand job.

“You want to tell me what to do or leave it in my hands?” Vila smirked, his cheeks flushing with colour and he felt himself jerk in his palm. He kept one hand fisted over his erection, hiding the flesh from view and surreptitiously squeezing the head to plump himself up. He felt blood rushing south as the person in front of him spoke, giving himself a few quick strokes before he pushed the foreskin down to his base, making his cock jut out proudly from his legs.

“Oh it _is_ big, isn’t it? And we’re not all the way there yet either,” he allowed himself a proud laugh and stroked himself a few more times, firmer and harder until his generous erection had grown to full size. Vila cocked an eyebrow and looked up.

“’ _Should have told you?_ ’ I dropped hints often enough! Changed your mind about just watching, maybe? No?” Vila looked dejected then, but it was mask, and he was back to grinning in a moment. “Have it your way, then. Now, what _am_ I going to do about this?” he gave himself a few slow, gentle pumps, leaning back on his elbows and rocking his hips up in time with his hand. He set his jaw, letting the tension build in the base of his cock, and used his left hand to scoop his balls free of his tight pants.

“That’s better,” he groaned, and at a comment from the person in front of him, he spread his legs wider, dropping back to the bed entirely.

“Would feel a lot better with your hands, I’ll bet,” he spoke out into the ceiling above him, voice growing hoarse. “Care to wager?”

A slightly-strained laugh was the only response Vila could manage in reply, voice catching in his throat. He lay there for a few minutes, hand working himself steadily, breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps as he felt his muscles clench, goaded on by a few choice words coming from the person across the room.

“You talk pretty promises,” he turned to the side, hand still working hard at his cock. “But you won’t follow through; I know you,” he panted, a fine sheen of sweat plastering his thin hair to his brow. Vila licked his lips, eyes shuttering as he rolled his balls in his hands and stopped himself abruptly. The man pinched the tip of his cock tightly with his fingers and heaved himself up with an effort to look at the other.

“No,” his teeth peeked out in a twisted grin that was very unlike himself. “No, not yet. You haven’t even earned it. _Yes, you have to earn it!_ How about a kiss?”

Vila looked hurt again, this time more sincerely, and then rather suddenly (and perhaps a trifle reluctantly) he tucked himself back into his pants. The waistband snapped loudly against his belly, unnoticed as the other person’s voice drowned out the sound.

“I’m beginning to think you just want to use me!” Vila cried and his eyebrows furrowed. He tensed, half-rising from the bed before he was mollified, a firm hand pressing down against his shoulder to keep him still. He leaned into the touch; knowing them, it might be all he’d get. The hand on his shoulder drifted down, and Vila watched it as it dipped towards his crotch before cruelly pulling away, and its owner sat back down on the chair across the room. Vila frowned darkly then, a grimace on his face as he ran his fingers absently under his waistband, delaying the inevitable.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know?” he nodded as if he were agreeing with himself. “It’d do you a bit of good to blow off some steam,” _or blow **me** off_, he thought a trifle bitterly. He kept his eyes downcast as the other person spoke, only half listening to their words. He was wrestling with himself, deciding whether or not it was worth chucking them out of his cabin when they said something wholly unexpected.

“ _Really_?” Vila kept his voice low, but as the person before him sat back down and reached for their own fly, his eyes bulged. Vila watched, transfixed, as they gave themselves a hard rub against their clothing. His own hand was inside his pants in an instant, cock just as hard as before. He swore lightly as the elastic waistband snapped back unexpectedly onto the head of his cock, but kept stroking as he watched the person before him reach into their pants and rub _just_ where Vila couldn’t see. The thief kept up a steady rhythm, hips thrusting up into his tight fist as he went faster and faster, setting an agonising pace that he hoped the other would keep up to, and much to Vila’s surprise, they did. He felt himself surging, gulping at the hot air in the room, feeling sweat begin to trickle down his brow, and his balls tightened as he stroked himself closer and closer to release-

He stopped mid-stroke.

The person before him cursed and demanded he keep going.

Vila laughed, let go of himself, and stood up to free himself of the stupid bloody trousers that had been cutting into his hips, smirking all the while at the one that was now suffering in front of him. _Oh how the tables have turned, my friend._

"Come on luv; just give us a little peek," Vila goaded, resuming his stroking, now slow and languid (though he was only a hair’s breadth from beating himself right over the edge). _No_ , he thought as he watched the other person panting and scowling at him, _it’s my turn to tease_. He laughed again and started handling himself almost casually, keeping his foreskin pulled up tight over his head to tease them both. 

"Yes, it would be participating, you’re right. It’s only _fair_ ," he grinned, loving the twinge of desperation that marred the other’s face. They seemed to debate with themselves for a moment, uncertainty in their eyes despite the obvious desire, but after a few moments they seemed to have made their mind up and stood, pushed their pants down their thighs, and sat bare-bottomed on the chair with one hand working themselves up again, everything on display.

"That's gorgeous..." Vila drawled, starting back up on himself, eyes glued to the hand between their spread legs.

"Talk me to me, tell me dirty things…" he requested after a few moments and waited.

"Can't think of anything?" Vila smirked and squeezed himself, gasping with a silent O in a display that was designed entirely to butter the other one up for his next request. 

"Tell me about that night you two were alone, back up on the ship. You know-“ he pushed, not giving in to the feigned confusion on the other’s face. “Just last week. I want all the _filthy_ details."

Vila flinched in response to the other person shifting, thinking he’d earned himself a slap, but instead they rose and came closer to the bed. His hand slowed down. 

“Or maybe just the latest vidcast you watched?” Vila squeaked. He opened his mouth again, a twinge of nerves making him chatty, but the other person knew what he was like and Vila needed to _shut up already_. Soft, hungry lips pressed against his slack mouth, devouring the words he’d yet to speak, and Vila pushed back into the kiss with as much tongue as he could get. He sucked against their open mouth, one hand daring to pull them closer to him (he’d _never_ get this chance again! It was worth the risk), and swallowed their moan as they shuddered violently above him.

Vila groaned deep in his throat, breaking the kiss with his eyes half-lidded, and his hand speed up as he thrust desperately into his fist.

He came then in slow, thick spurts that oozed over his knuckles ( _even when he comes, he’s lazy)_ and kept stroking through the rush, pumping as much as he could from himself, eyes squeezed shut now and red lips slack and gasping. His chest rose and fell, heaving as if the orgasm were still catching up to him. Eventually, Vila’s eyes shot open, and he seemed to come back to himself when he realised he had an audience; another weak spurt of cum dribbled over his fist at the thought. He looked down, releasing himself and ignoring the wet mess across his hands and the top of his trousers.

Instead, he turned his head back up and smiled dopily at the person above him, breath still ragged as he gasped:

“Did I earn my kiss?”


End file.
